By the Moon
by Rejected Forgotten Love
Summary: In this thick silence between them, the boy with the foolish fire eyes, and brittle heart, and he with the warm strength, and checkerboard outlook, was nothing more, and nothing less than contentment.


By the Moon:

It's dark. The house is alight with sounds and warm tones, soft light flickering beneath the gap between door and frigid tile.  
He breathes in softly, cold air rushing through the open window, curtains billowing softly behind him, like gentle waves, or fragile wings, as he drinks in the night, the dark, the dancing fairy lights below.

Laughter drifts from miniature figures in dark cloaks and bright charm, the sound of a slowing violin bidding them goodbye, goodbye…

The darkness folds unto itself, enveloping the pixie-like travelers in its winsome arms, and snuffing out the will'o'the wisp lanterns with a gentle breath…

Hooves beat an impatient staccato against well worn flagstone, and the breeze plays a soft song through the falling leaves as a piano's clear notes echo through the night, blue and haunting and somehow hopeful…

He leans away from the windowsill, drawing the glass closed behind him, perhaps a little reluctantly, wistfully, heart aching for that quiet fairytale.

However the piano continues its ghostly melody, quietly, fragilely, reverberating through the now silent house, timidly singing through the lonely darkness, pulling him away from the window, and forward, its delicate sound calling him down the dark stairs and past the whispering servants.

Before he even knows it, he's reached the music room, and has his back pressed against the door, as he closes it ever so softly, eyes drawn to the small figure at the piano, fingers dancing over ivory keys, stroking them, coaxing that silvery sound from their hesitant strings.

The door closes perhaps a little more loudly than he had expected.

The spell broken, the magic dispelled, the pianist gets to his feet, back to him, as he reaches towards the pile of dishes set upon it's ebony furnish, with a quiet "I'm sorry, I was just…"

"No." Elliot murmurs, moving forward to wrap drained limbs around the other, snuggling close behind the other male, "Keep playing."

Gingerly, the plates are set back down, and talented fingers have once again found the instrument, running over them almost nervously now, Elliot draped over his shoulders tiredly.

"You expect me to play like this?" Leo asks bemusedly after a moment, rolling his wine stained sleeves up.

"Yes." Elliot yawns in reply, nuzzling his face in dark, luxurious hair, as dark eyes crinkle in a laugh.

"I take it you're feeling better?" pale fingers began a soft, moderate waltz, and Elliot sighs into the crook of his servant's neck

"I guess."

"You didn't miss much." Leo confides, switching now to a gentler, more familiar piece and Elliot yawns again, "The party wasn't all that exciting."

"Well you were serving." Elliot huffs, with a bit of a shove, "Although, I probably wouldn't have enjoyed it myself."

"Mm." Elliot slides onto the bench beside him, and leans against his shoulder.

They sit in silence for a moment, Leo continuing his piece, before abruptly switching to something quieter. More intimate.

"What's this? A lullaby?" Elliot laughs, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe." Is the distant reply, dark eyes narrowing behind thick lenses.

Elliot sighs, knowing that he won't get much out of him while he's composing. Instead he opts to close his eyes, using Leo's bony shoulder as a pillow, despite it's rather constant movement.

However he really couldn't mind less.

In this thick silence between them, the boy with the foolish fire eyes, and brittle heart, and he with the warm strength, and checkerboard outlook, was nothing more, and nothing less than contentment.

In this shadowed room, lit only by the flickering of a candle in the west window, they were at peace.

* * *

A/n: This was a fic I wrote for DashaLoki on deviantart after she won a contest in the group OfWithHisHead. It was somewhat influenced by Midsummer's Night Dream, for I wrote it shortly after seeing my school's rendition of the play. I'm still a little unsure of where I was going with this piece, but I thought I might as well post it while I was putting other things up. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.


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